Bete Noir
by Telemain's Daughter
Summary: One shots from Cainsville. OliviaxGabriel.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I'm not even sure why I wrote this, except I just finished Deceptions and it'll be another year until Betrayals and, and, and..._

 _Anyway, I don't normally play around in another author's book-verse, but this scene wouldn't leave my head. Might do a few more one-shots if I think of them and there's interest. Let me know what you think!_

 _All rights belong to Kelley Armstrong._

* * *

Moving Gabriel Walsh was difficult at the best of times. Moving him when he was unconscious was nearly impossible.

"I already had to haul your ass around once this year," Olivia muttered, readjusting her grip under his arms. "Let's not make a habit out of it."

A siren screamed in the next street over, startling her. Her boots slipped on the wet asphalt and she fell ungracefully to her knees, tangled around Gabriel's still body. She caught her breath and pulled out her phone, but there was no one to call. James was dead. Ricky wouldn't come if she called anymore. The one person who had promised to always be there if she needed help was the one person who needed her help now: Gabriel.

She dragged him closer, resting his back against her chest. The gash on his head was still bleeding. She pressed her hand against it and dropped her head to the top of his.

"Damn you, Gabriel," she whispered. " You are not allowed to leave me, do you hear me? I need you. Don't leave."

"I wouldn't." The voice was rough, but it was _his,_ and his hand that covered hers where it lay on his chest. "I wouldn't do that, Olivia."

She raised her head. "Heyyy. You OK?"

"I...may need a minute."

Her head dropped back down to his with relieved laughter. "Take as many minutes as you need," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Here's more! Good reviews make my whole day better, so a big s/o to MizBizSav! Thanks :)_

 _All rights belong to Kelley Armstrong._

* * *

Olivia had been spending the night at Gabriel's apartment more often since they started the Carlton case. They would work at the office late into the night, fueled by coffee and the spirit of avoidance on Olivia's part. Avoiding Cainsville. Avoiding any reminders of Ricky.

Gabriel had spent so many all-nighters at his office that it hardly seemed unusual to him, considering how difficult the Carlton case was proving to be, but when he walked into the conference room at 2 am one night to find Olivia asleep on the table, he made her promise to set an alert on her phone to go off at midnight. A signal to them both to stop working and get some sleep.

The first night she had simply settled into the passenger seat of the Jaguar, her phone casting a blue glow around the interior of the car. Gabriel paused, engine idling.

"It's really too late to drive back to Cainsville," he ventured.

"Yeah..."

"Perhaps you should consider getting another apartment. In Chicago."

"Mmm. Not tonight, though." She looked up from her phone. "Do you mind? If I just crash on your couch again tonight?"

"Not at all." He put the car in gear and pulled out into the street. "Although you do not have to take the couch."

"Yes, I do. For one thing, I fit. You don't."

"I fit on my couch."

She laughed softly.

"I do," he protested.

"You do not. I should get you one of those fabulous sofa-bed thingies like I have."

"Because that would add so much to the decor."

She never said what the second thing was, but Gabriel thought he knew. He mentally added "Sleeping in Gabriel's room," to the list of things Olivia deemed improper. (It was a very short list.)

And then it just kept happening. If they stayed until midnight, Olivia came home with him.

Gabriel wasn't sure if this was exactly the thing they should be doing, but he couldn't bring himself to suggest she sleep elsewhere. And after all, he justified to himself, as Olivia herself had said, they were...friends. This was something that friends did. Maybe. He didn't have much—or any—experience in the "Friend" department.

* * *

The alarm went off as usual that Thursday night, but they stayed working until after one. By the time they made it back up to the apartment on the fifty-fifth floor, Olivia had taken off her tall shoes and was no longer communicating in full sentences.

She stood for a minute just inside the door, swaying slightly. Gabriel placed a hand at her back and guided her pointedly over to the couch, still draped in the microfiber throw from last night.

"Good night, Olivia."

"Yes." She dropped down, curled up, and covered herself in the throw in one fluid motion. She was asleep before Gabriel left the room.

* * *

4 am. Olivia.

Gabriel shot up in bed, eyes wide in the darkness, calculating threat levels and the distance to weapons. He almost didn't realize what exactly had woken him, until the sound came again: Olivia, crying out in her sleep.

She was gripping the edge of the sofa cushion with a claw-like hand, jerking her head back and forth in a slight, violent motion.

Gabriel stepped further into the living room. She didn't look like she was having a vision. She looked like she was about to fall off the sofa.

He crossed to her, lunging to catch her at the end of a particularly sharp movement. She tumbled off the edge of the sofa and brought him down with her, flailing against him and the blanket. He tried to pull her closer to stop the flailing and she cracked him in the chin with the back of her head, suddenly awake and saying "Fuck" very loudly in the dark living room.

They stared at each other for a moment. Gabriel realized he was still holding her arms. He let go quickly.

"Fuck," she said again, more quietly, and turned away, her hand to her mouth.

He wondered if she was going to throw up, and then realized she was crying. Silently, trying to hold back sound and movement. Because of him.

Now Gabriel felt sick.

She took a deep breath and turned to face forward, wiping her hand against the blanket. "Sorry about that," she said, her voice almost normal.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"Falling on you. Swearing. All that." She waved a hand somewhat expressively between them.

"Olivia, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You never make me uncomfortable. I am uncomfortable...with myself."

He couldn't see her face very clearly, but he knew she was looking at him now, that particular Olivia look: empathy, and understanding, and a glare that said Fight Me.

"I don't know how to—comfort someone. I know what is socially expected, but I've never..." He trailed off again. Her eyes had not left his and he found himself continuing, "I don't know how."

She looked away. Gabriel wondered if he could gracefully stand up and make it back to the bedroom before she noticed he was gone.

She disentangled her legs from the blanket and scooted closer to where he sat on the carpet, back to the sofa.

"Don't freak out," she warned. He was about to ask why he would, when she lifted his right arm and draped it over her own shoulders.

He went rigid. _What was she doing?_

She very carefully arranged herself next to his side, pulling the blanket after her, and gently laid her head on his chest. She shifted around slightly, and then lay still, a warm and heavy weight against him.  
"You can relax," she said after a moment.

Gabriel exhaled. "What—um." He cleared his throat. "What were you dreaming about?"

"I dreamt someone shot the glass out of your window." Her voice was a reverberation against his rib cage. "I was hanging over the edge, and I couldn't hold on."

"The glass is actually bulletproof."

"Good to know."

Her breathing slowed, and in a few minutes he said her name softly and she didn't answer. She was asleep again.

He kept his arm across her back where she'd placed it, his hand resting on her shoulder. He was afraid if he moved, she would wake up.

A section of her hair lay across her face, the end of the curl sticking into her nose. Every time she breathed it would tickle against her nose and she'd twitch. He carefully removed the strand and laid it behind her ear.

It slid back.

He tried again. He tried five more times; the curl would not stay. If it kept falling there, tickling in and out of her nose when she breathed, she would surely wake up, and if she woke up, she would get up. And as uncomfortable as Gabriel was, he would not have moved right at that moment for a thousand dollars and the perfect defense for Carlton.

He lifted the curl away like before, tucked it behind her ear, and rested his hand lightly on the side of her head to keep it in place. She shifted against him, and he rubbed his thumb against her hair to calm her.

He hadn't known he knew how to do that.

Somewhere beyond the smoggy clouds of Chicago the sun was just starting to come up. Gabriel sat on the plushy carpet of his apartment, Olivia curled up against him, stroking her hair and watching the sun find it's way up to morning again.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Another chapter! This one isn't much different from last time, but the idea was there, so here it is. One more chapter after this, I think. Thank you s/o to WinryElric65 for the review!_

 _All rights belong to Kelley Armstrong._

* * *

Little yellow house in a deep green valley. Little blonde girl in a white summer dress. Little purple flowers in the long green grass. Little red flames, consuming all the rest.

Fire kills everything, doesn't it dear?

 _...doesn't it, dear?_

 _...doesn't it, dear?_

* * *

Olivia came awake with a light snort, the smell of burning wood in her nose. She took a deep breath and shifted, the seat belt tight against her chest. The seats of the Jag were warm and heated, and she snuggled back down. Wood smoke drifted into the car through the windows, rolled down a few inches to let in the evening air. Rural countryside whizzed past. Their headlights cut a bright swathe across the curving road ahead.

She turned her head. Gabriel sat relaxed in the driver's seat beside her, jacket off and sleeves rolled up, his shades off so he could see better at night. He glanced at her, and then at the cup holders between them.

There was a coffee on his side, and a mocha waiting for her on hers. She stretched out her arm to get it. It was still warm, and she mentally congratulated herself for selecting heated cupholders as an option on the new car, and Gabriel, for figuring out how they worked.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked, not needing to know, but wanting to hear another voice.

"About two hours and fifteen minutes," Gabriel said calmly. "Stopped for coffee awhile back and you didn't wake up. We'll be there in a few more hours." He glanced her way again. "You should try and go back to sleep. Rest up."

"Mmm." She sipped her coffee. "Not sure I want to. Is this decaf?"

Gabriel made a light scoffing noise, and she smiled into her cup. He knew her well. Or at least he knew her coffee preferences.

"Talk to me," she said, shifting slightly to face him.

"About what?"

"Anything. Trying to stay awake here. First case?"

He was silent for a minute. "That was a long time ago."

Olivia waited.

"A man came to me, accused of assaulting his neighbor with his own mailbox..."

The Jag ate up the miles of road greedily, and Olivia laughed and listened to Gabriel's horror stories of life as a young defense lawyer. After another hour and a half, she did fall back asleep, but this time, the nightmares stayed away.


	4. Chapter 4, Part 1

_A/N: Hello again! I've been out for the winter, but I'M BACK NOW. Huge thank yous to everyone who's read this story, especially if you left a review (hugs to ElvenDestiny and phantomcat97!). Y'all are part of the reason why I made sure to come back and finish this. That, and I just really can't WAIT for Betrayals, so I have to make my own fun._

 _This last chapter will be in two parts; below is Part 1, and expect Part 2 very soon!_

 _All rights belong to Kelley Armstrong._

* * *

"Remind me why we're out here, again?" Olivia asked, as a tree branch whipped her in the face.

"We are looking for evidence of an unconfirmed death that our client allegedly deposited in these woods," Gabriel said, from further ahead.

"Aww, you take me on the best day trips. Maybe after this we can get ice cream and go to the gun range."

"If you're a good girl and help me find the body."

Another branch snagged in the neckline of her top, and as she disentangled herself a third smacked her across the ass. Olivia growled in frustration and lashed out at the dense underbrush.

"I'm being sexually harassed by a bush, I hope you know that," she called up to Gabriel.

"Cease and desist, bushes," Gabriel said firmly.

"Wow, that was really scary, and I'm sure it will have a huge impact on them. Ow."

"It better." Gabriel tramped back to where she was and held up a tangle of vines and branches so she could pass through. "I've never requested an injunction against plant life, but I'm sure there's a precedent."

Olivia smiled in spite of herself and they continued down the hillside, holding back branches for each other to make the way easier. It had taken them the better part of the day to drive out here from the city, and Gabriel's good mood had only increased the farther they drove. They had been deep in cases all month, and she'd missed the easy banter they usually settled into. Gabriel had been working outside of the office more than usual lately, and if she didn't know better, she'd almost have said he was avoiding her.

But out here in the wilds of southern Wisconsin, all of the worries and distances fell away between them, like city smog dissipated by fresh air. Gabriel helped her down a particularly steep incline, and when she left her hand in his even after they were on level ground, he didn't pull away.

Olivia started recounting the plot of "The Client," pointing out the similarities to their current situation, and letting Gabriel pick apart the legalities.

"And that is why," he said, when she came to the end, "we don't have clients from organized crime."

"Because we'd spend all our weekends tramping through the woods, looking for bodies?"

"Exactly. Or in boats, on the lake."

"I don't know, it's pretty nice out here." She swung their joined hands back and forth playfully. "We could have brought a picnic."

"I'm sure we can find a reason to have a picnic that doesn't involve dead people."

Olivia bit back a smile at Gabriel's casual suggestion that they spend recreational time together. _Progress._

"I realize I was asleep for most of the drive out here," she said instead, "so if you were talking, I wasn't listening, but what _exactly_ is the plan if we do find this guy?"

"We call the police," he said.

"And explain our presence here...how?"

"We are hiking."

Olivia snorted.

"Technically, this is a national park," he pointed out.

"Technically, we are nowhere near a trail."

Gabriel stopped, and Olivia's momentum swung her around to face him, their hands still intertwined.

"Perhaps we got lost," Gabriel said quietly.

She stared at him for a moment, trying to read into those ice blue eyes what exactly was going on. Things had been off-kilter between them, their dynamic shifting. She hoped—but she knew if she got it wrong, it would destroy everything.

"Neither one of us is very good at following directions," she said at last.

"Or reading signs."

She laughed a little at that. "Speak for yourself."

"Interpreting omens isn't what I meant, Olivia."

"I know." Even as she said it, she heard a crow caw overhead. There was a rush of flapping wings, and a large black bird settled onto Gabriel's shoulder.

He didn't move.

She dropped his hand and stepped back, and all he did was frown at her. The crow shifted from foot to foot, and let out what should have been a deafening caw, right in his ear. He didn't even flinch.

"Olivia?"

Two more crows appeared, cawing loudly and circling the clearing where they stood. Olivia kept backing away from Gabriel, unable to take her eyes off the crow on his shoulder.

 _One for bad news..._

She glanced up, and there were six new birds, with more coming all the time, pouring into the sky overhead like black ink into a clear pool.

"Olivia, what's happening? Olivia!"

She knew he was shouting, but it was as if he was far away, muted by distance or a wall. All she could see were the birds, all she could hear were the birds. And then the birds fell.

They rushed down into the clearing in a swirl of ratty black feathers, sucked in and centering around her. She tried to back away further, only to run into a thicket of bushes behind her, with birds on every other side. Cawing, closing in, their feathers choking her and falling in dusty sweeps of wings, out of which came claws and talons and the sharpest of beaks, scraping her arms and chest. They began diving at her face, pecking, pecking, and she put up her arms to ward them off, trying to yell and getting only a mouthful of feathers.

Suddenly everything around her darkened, the light cut out and a heavy weight across her head and upraised arms. She struggled harder until someone gripped her shoulders and she heard a voice, from very far away.

" _They are incorporeal, and cannot hurt you...they are incorporeal, and cannot hurt you..."_

The dark surrounding her shut out the sight of the birds, and slowly the other voice became louder and closer, clearer as the birds' cries faded away.

"They are incorporeal, and cannot hurt you."

Gabriel.

She lifted the darkness away from her head, and her arms came away wrapped in Gabriel's suit jacket. He'd thrown it over her, and she looked from it to him in question as he stood in front of her. He let go of her shoulders.

"Psychological defense," he explained.

She let out a shaky breath. "You're just a full-service defense lawyer, aren't you?"

"Indeed. I'll even investigate the scene of your alleged crime, which is the actual explanation I would give the police if we found that man's body, and not 'hiking.'"

"Oh, good. I was afraid you were slipping." She stepped away from the bushes, slipping past Gabriel to the left. Her adrenaline was dropping again, and she was suddenly cold in the open air.

Gabriel followed. He stepped in front of her again when she stopped, carefully removing his jacket from her grip and draping it over her shoulders. She slipped her arms into the sleeves without thinking, staring at the ground and frowning.

"Olivia? Tell me what's going on. What did you see?"

She looked up. "You don't know?"

"I know something was attacking you. I don't know what it was."

"The birds..." she whispered.

"The what?"

"The birds."

"Are the omens recreating Hitchcock films now?"

"I don't understand what they're trying to say," she muttered, beginning to pace the clearing.

Gabriel fell into step beside her. "Did they speak to you?"

"No. No, the omens... One for sorrow, three for... a wedding, grief, love, journey, secrets..." She stopped. "It was all of them. All the birds, all the omens."

"And then some, by the looks of it."

"But why all together? It doesn't make any sense. Everything together makes up-"

"Everything," Gabriel finished quietly.

Olivia stared at him. She hadn't even mentioned that the birds had centered around him begin with, before transferring to her.

"Why would I get an omen that everything is going to happen?" _And that it's going to happen to us?_

"Maybe because it is." He was gazing at her steadily, and she couldn't look away.

"What kind of an omen is 'everything is going to happen'? It's silly. I'm being warned that life is going to happen to us?"

She saw him register the pronoun. "Maybe we both needed a sign in our faces, to get us heading in the right direction."

"It's—improbable," she said, almost a whisper.

He started to smile. "Well, when you eliminate the impossible-"

"Oh my god, don't start," she said, laughing.

"-whatever remains-"

"I _will_ hurt you."

"-however improbable, must be the-"

He took a few steps back as he spoke, trying not to laugh and never taking his eyes off her. With a sudden slipping rustle, the ground under his feet shifted and he stumbled. Olivia darted forward, in time to catch herself on a tree trunk as the ground gave way and Gabriel tumbled down the hillside.

"Gabriel?" Olivia peered through the trees, catching her hair in the branches. "Shit. Gabriel!"

"Stay back from the edge, Olivia!" he called up from somewhere beneath her, and she relaxed a fraction at hearing his voice. By bracing herself on two trees, she could lean far enough over to see. Gabriel had landed on a shelf of ground roughly ten feet down, the last outcropping before the incline fell away into rocks and sideways-clinging trees, ending in a creek bed far below. She couldn't see from her vantage point how badly Gabriel was hurt, but by the lay of his bad leg and the fact he wasn't jumping back up, Olivia judged the situation to be fairly serious.

She scanned the surrounding area and found, further to her left, a place where the hillside sloped down less steeply, and began side-stepping down to Gabriel's level.

The ground was slick with decaying leaves. Olivia grabbed onto bushes and tree roots protruding from the eroded hillside, her feet slipping almost out from underneath her. Just as she reached the ground level where Gabriel lay, she lost her balance, sliding past to land on a section of limestone.

"Olivia?"

Olivia caught her breath and moved to her hands and knees. Gabriel's jacket had protected her back on the slide down, and she tried to ignore the dull pain of her backside from landing on rock. She was about to call out her position to Gabriel, let him know she was ok, when a glimpse of denim caught her eye.

Tucked into the underside of the upper land shelf was a half-dug hollow resting on the rock. Olivia crawled forward. Exposed roots tangled in her hair, dropping damp earth down her neck. She followed the denim down to a work boot, and up something suspiciously leg-like, badly covered with leaves and cut branches.

"Olivia, answer me." Concern and pain sharpened Gabriel's voice. "Are you alright?"

"I'm good!" Olivia brushed away a branch, just to be sure. "This dead guy down here isn't, though."


	5. Chapter 4, Part 2

_A/N: Hello, everybody! I didn't forget about you, I promise. I got super busy with my non-fanfic writing. But now I'm back! And ready to finish this and other stories, in case you follow more than one of mine._

 _Sitting next to me is my beautiful Canadian copy of "Betrayals" (it has a DOG on the front. They know me so well. How could I ever resist a book with a dog on the front?), and I figured I better finish this story BEFORE I read "Betrayals," since it's set on a course I started pre-Book Four. This installment will conclude my version of the story, since I'm sure the real story will start going the way we want it to in these last couple books. (Also, I have a feeling it's going to go deep into the whole Arawn/Gwynn/Matilda thing, and I can't begin to touch that. I like the Gabriel-and-Olivia-kicking-ass-and-taking-names parts, if you couldn't tell.)_

 _Many thanks to everyone who's been reading and following, and everyone who left a review! You're the reason I'm writing this! Well, you and my overwhelmingly strong ship for Olivia and Gabriel..._

 _Thanks for reading! Enjoy, and let me know what you think!_

* * *

"I so deserve ice cream after this," Olivia said, as she crawled along the muddy limestone ledge to get a better camera angle. "Ice cream, _and_ a trip to the gun range. And we both deserve alcohol. I wonder if anyone makes root beer floats, but with real beer. I think I'm becoming hysterical, Gabriel."

"Just don't touch the body," Gabriel said, from above.

"You are completely unconcerned with my growing mental problems," Olivia teased. She was more worried about Gabriel's condition than anything else. He had insisted she document the scene before trying to assist him—not that he'd actually admitted to needing her assistance. Hearing his voice respond to whatever inane chatter she could come up with reassured her on more than one level. If she spent too long actually _looking_ at the dead body she was sharing a ledge with, she would probably start screaming. Four weeks in the wild had not been kind to her new friend.

"I think I've sufficiently photographed Mr. Cadaver here," Olivia said, snapping a final frame and slipping her phone back into her jeans. "Give me a sec and I'm coming up."

"Be careful," Gabriel warned.

"I'm always careful."

Gabriel snorted.

"I heard that."

Olivia scooted backwards on her ass, giving her jeans up for lost, until she could gain a proper foothold and clamber up to the shelf of land above the body. Gabriel had pulled himself into a sitting position, leaning against the cliff side, one leg drawn up and the other stretched out before him at an awkward angle. He was awake, alert, and not visibly bleeding, and Olivia felt the steel knots in her stomach relent by inches. She crouch-walked over and sank down beside him, closing her eyes.

"I need a minute," she said.

"Take your time," he said, some of the sharpness leaching out of his voice. "I'm not going anywhere, and neither is Mr. Cadaver."

This time it was her turn to snort. "Please tell me you know his real name."

"Adam Kavanaugh."

"Allegedly."

"Of course."

"Right." Olivia opened her eyes and stood up. "Let's get this show on the road. Or at least back to a pathway. If I find you a branch, do you think you can get back up the hill with me?"

He sounded harsher again as soon as she moved away. "I do not require a branch-"

"Yes, I know, and you wouldn't require air to breathe if you could find a loophole. Let me rephrase: I'm finding you a branch, and then we're hauling ass up this damn hill and calling the cops. Don't move until I get back."

She took his begrudging grunt as an agreement, and climbed away to hunt for a suitable branch. She considered it further personal progress that Gabriel trusted her enough not to just wave her off and go charging up the hill like an injured bull.

It still worried her that he wasn't, though.

"You're going to look like a real mountain hiker now," she called back over her shoulder, starting up the nervous-talking thing again. "Walk softly and carry a big stick and all that. I know! We should get you a swordstick when we get back to the city, and then-"

Leaves crunched and rustled behind her. She had climbed far enough away on the steep hillside that Gabriel was out of sight. She sighed. It figured; of course he would wait until she couldn't stop him before getting up unaided. The rustling came again.

"I told you not to move!" she snapped.

"Olivia," came Gabriel's voice, still far away. Olivia froze. It was just her name, but the tone was steady and warning, what she had come to think of as his being-held-at-gunpoint voice. "I haven't moved, Olivia."

"And neither will you," said a new voice, a man's voice. "I thought I might find you here, Walsh. You're more interested in what you can get from me than in actually defending me, aren't you?"

"You knew my reputation when you hired me," Gabriel said calmly.

"You aren't supposed to turn your... skills on your clients!"

"Aren't I? Refraining from doing so costs extra, I believe."

"Everything costs extra with you, Walsh."

Olivia's mind raced through the implications. If Gabriel hadn't moved, that meant this new man—presumably Charles Grant, their client, although she herself had never met him—stood between her and Gabriel. And if he was speaking to Gabriel, that meant his back was to her.

She reached down and slipped off her shoes, remembering from woodland hunts with Ricky that bare feet equaled silence. Right beside where she'd stopped was a tangle of fallen tree limbs. She eased one off the top off the pile, finding it nearly as long as she was tall. The brush shifted and she froze, but Grant's voice continued lambasting Gabriel, covering any noise she might have made. She crept forward.

"And I suppose now you'll wrap everything up in a neat bow and just hand me over to the public defenders, is that it? I'm not paying you to investigate me, I'm paying you to defend me! What, did you develop a conscience all of a sudden?"

"No," said Gabriel.

Olivia moved into position just behind Grant and waited for a chance. She couldn't see the gun from this angle, but if he could shift even a foot one way or the other-

" _She's_ the one with the conscience," Gabriel continued. "I just like having all the facts."

Grant stiffened and started to turn and Olivia took her shot. She swung the branch into his back, slamming him into the hillside and pinning him. The gun clattered free of his hand and Gabriel dived for it. Grant tried to wriggle out of Olivia's hold and she swept his legs out from under him, letting him slam chest-first on the ground and using the branch to hold him there. She pivoted on the point until she was beside Gabriel.

She motioned for the gun. Gabriel shook his head. She snapped her fingers and held out her hand impatiently. Grant struggled to sit up and Olivia pressed harder.

"Call off your secretary, Walsh!" Grant whined.

Something shifted in Gabriel's eyes. "She's not my secretary," he said, and he gave Olivia the gun.

"I'm letting you up now, Mr. Grant," Olivia said cheerfully. "Be warned, I have your gun. It's a very nice gun, and I'd love to get a chance to use it."

Gabriel accepted the end of the branch from her and dragged it towards himself. Grant stumbled angrily to his feet, cursing and spitting leaves.

"What kind of vigilante bullshit is this?" he sputtered. "I'll have you both charged with assault! I'll-"

"You will do nothing of the kind, Mr. Grant." Gabriel braced himself with the branch stood up. "We are standing over the body of Adam Kavanaugh."

"The man you killed," Olivia supplied helpfully.

"Allegedly," said Gabriel and Grant at the same time. "Increasingly less allegedly since you seemed to already know its location." Gabriel continued.

"I followed you! I thought you might have information-"

"No," said Gabriel. "Try again."

Grant opened his mouth and then shut it.

"You don't have a leg to stand on," Olivia said, "so I suggest you shut up and walk."

"And if you find you do have a leg to stand on," said Gabriel, "Ms. Taylor-Jones is more than capable of shooting it out from under you."

Grant gave them one last death-glare, then turned and began scrambling ungracefully back up the hillside. Olivia was about to follow when she felt Gabriel's hand brush her shoulder.

He didn't say anything. Couldn't manage to meet her eyes. The hand just hovered there, an unspoken request for her help. His knuckles showed white on his other hand where he gripped the branch for support. Just before his hand dropped away from her, she moved into his side and wrapped her free arm around his waist, accepting his weight. He settled his arm around her shoulders and ducked his head, and together they struggled up the hill after Grant.

* * *

Olivia made sure they brought an ambulance when she called the police. Gabriel's leg was well and truly broken, and it took two paramedics to keep him in the ambulance. They only managed to head for the nearest hospital when Olivia climbed aboard as well and shut the doors behind her.

She left Gabriel at the hospital to have his leg set. He didn't need her to witness that, and she would rather have spent another night at the jail—hell, in a jail cell—than sit for three hours in the close confines of the mauve hospital waiting room. She found a martial arts supply store a few streets away, and returned after Gabriel's text _—Done. Where are you?_ —bearing a swordstick. She made Gabriel wait to demonstrate its hidden qualities until they were out in the parking lot, out of deference to the hospital's weapons policy. He still had to walk with industrial metal crutches to accommodate the cast on his leg, but said he "appreciated the gesture." Coming from Gabriel, that was like a fucking Hallmark card.

A taxi deposited them back at the entrance to the park just as dusk was falling. Ordinarily the gates would be closed, but the park was an active crime scene now, and they stood open to allow CSU access. The officer posted on guard waved them inside. In the distance, gravel crunched under police tires, and a bright glow shone against the lowering night clouds where floodlights had been set up.

"Do you remember where we parked?" Gabriel asked.

Olivia pulled up the sleeve of her jacket—Gabriel's jacket, she realized. She'd been wearing it all afternoon. "Seven? Lot seven? I wrote it on my arm. Does that look like a seven to you?" She angled her wrist toward him.

Gabriel balanced on his good leg and let go of one crutch to grasp her wrist. His thumb ran down the line of it to her hand, and she shivered, her hand instinctively turning to take his.

"I think it's a nine," he said at last, regarding their entwined fingers.

"Seven and nine are close. I'll check both and come back to get you when I find the car." She stepped away.

"No," Gabriel said.

"No, I shouldn't check both? No, I should just take the car and leave you here?"

"No, you are not walking around alone in a park at night."

"The place is crawling with cops. I'll be fine."

"Olivia, we found a body here this afternoon."

She started walking, slow enough so that Gabriel could keep pace. "You're right. Parks are dangerous. You're not allowed to take me to parks anymore. I'm done with nature."

"The list of places I'm not allowed to take you keeps getting longer. Abandoned insane asylums, any abandoned house, that coffee shop on Sixth Street, now parks..."

"That list is exactly four items long. I think you'll live."

"We never finished our conversation from earlier," Gabriel pointed out.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Non sequitur much? You're right. More important things came up, like guns and bodies. A body. Not plural." _Stop babbling, Olivia_.

Gabriel reached out and snagged the sleeve of her jacket—his jacket—and she stopped walking. "Not more important," he said.

"Okay."

"More pressing, perhaps, but not more important." He let go of the sleeve reluctantly, touching the rolled cuff at her wrist before dropping his hand to his side again.

"Do you want your jacket back?" Olivia asked, shrugging out of one sleeve.

"No."

"I think it's pretty much ruined now anyway."

"It's fine." He slid the jacket back up her arm and straightened it meticulously about her shoulders. She found his usually unreadable face even harder to gauge in the growing darkness.

"Gabriel?"

"Yes?"

"As endearing as the monosyllabic thing is, you gotta give me a hint here. Are we going to have an awkward moment? Should I just start walking again? Do you-"

He caught the lapel of her jacket and tugged her closer, bending his head to kiss her. The barest of touches. It was like brushing her hand against metal after walking on carpet. They sparked, and broke apart.

Up close, Gabriel's expression was laughably easy to read. He looked like he wanted to bolt, but was afraid to even move, waiting for her reaction.

"Was that my hint?" she asked, her heart picking up speed.

"Yes."

"Pretty big hint. Really more of a clue actually."

His mouth jumped at the corner, almost a smile. "A growing suspicion?"

"Oh, it's growing on me, all right." She slid both arms around his neck, being careful not to unbalance him, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him properly. The electric metaphor gave way in her mind to cliches about fire and burning and warmth, and coming home, and then her analytical mind shut down altogether.

"Tree," she said, coming up for air. "I need a tree."

"What?"

"A tree, I need a tree to back you against. I'm afraid I'm going to knock you over." She towed him off the gravel path and they stumbled at the grass edge. Gabriel grabbed at Olivia for balance, his crutches thudding to the ground. Olivia turned and took his arms, easing them both down to the grass.

"Better than tree," she murmured, straddling his lap and pushing him onto his back. He wrapped his arms around her, returning her kiss with a fierceness Olivia couldn't wait to explore.

"Wait," Gabriel said. He brought a hand up and cupped her cheek, stopping her next kiss. "Wait, I-"

 _Please don't shut down on me again. Please._

He brushed his thumb against her cheek and met her eyes. "Thank you, Olivia."

"For... jumping you?"

"For everything. Since I met you. Everything." There was more than those words, standing unguarded in his eyes. Olivia caught her breath at being allowed to see him, really _see_ him. After all the time they'd spent together, Olivia didn't need the words as much as she once thought she did. She knew, now, and the knowing was more than enough.

"You are very welcome for everything." She turned her face to gently bite, then kiss, his palm.

"What happens now?" Gabriel asked, uncertain.

"Everything." Olivia smiled. "The omens never lie. What happens next is everything."

It was a long time before they made it back to the car.


End file.
